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<title>i’d never want once from the cherry tree / 'cause my baby's sweet as can be by R1DDLEZ</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356164">i’d never want once from the cherry tree / 'cause my baby's sweet as can be</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/R1DDLEZ/pseuds/R1DDLEZ'>R1DDLEZ</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Apex Legends (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Genderfluid Mirage | Elliott Witt, Gentleness, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Olympus (Apex Legends), SO MUCH FLUFF, Self-Acceptance, Star Gazing, Trans Octane | Octavio Silva, octavio talks about how he knew he was trans and stuff, or just no-pronoun-preference mirage?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:46:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,615</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/R1DDLEZ/pseuds/R1DDLEZ</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you,” Elliott sighs, he sounds like he’s relived, like something had just released its grip on him, “I love you, I love you,” he repeats, over and over until Octavio’s laughing, loud and warm. </p><p>They rest their foreheads together for a silent moment, breathe each other in, find peace in that silence one more time. </p><p>There’s so much to say, so much to talk about, and they’ve got nothing but time.. </p><p>or; genderfluid mirage coming out w a love confession from mr silva</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mirage | Elliott Witt/Octane | Octavio Silva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i’d never want once from the cherry tree / 'cause my baby's sweet as can be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for context; i hc mirage as genderfluid, or just being okay with any pronouns because he's really fuckin' cool like that. and octane is trans because.. i mean.. look at him.</p><p>miroctane brain rot, fellas.</p><p>but here, *shoves this at you* take my gay garbage. title is a random hozier lyric that makes my heart warm</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Olympus is a cold planet, surprisingly. </p><p>Nights are always the chilliest, and Octavio doesn't really like the cold, but something about Olympus makes him warm, and he finds himself ignoring the bitter chill most nights.</p><p>A blanket wrapped around him, Octavio sits on atop a roof at the Gardens, his back against the cold material of the roof. He’s counting the stars, or maybe he’s connecting fake constellations, considering he’s drawing shapes with them. </p><p>“That one, right there?” Elliott asks, pointing to where Octavio had preciously pointed.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s totally a starfish.” </p><p>Elliott lets out a chuckle, and it sounds like it comes straight from his belly, bubbles up then fully releases, low in octave and hearty. </p><p>Octavio smiles, looks over at the man next to him. Elliott's eyes are closed, there’s wrinkles at the corners from him laughing, and his hands are spread over his belly, fingers tapping idly as it jerks up and down from his chuckles. </p><p>Tav swears Elliott is the closest thing to an angel on earth.</p><p>There’s something in the way Elliott laughs that makes Octavio’s heart feel weighed. It’s loud and deep, can be heard from a mile away, and Octavio swears he could light up a room if a laugh could provide electricity, it’s so bright. And whenever Elliott says his name his chest feels funny, like a ball of warmth combusts each time he says it, sugary and sounding just right from Elliott’s lips. And whenever Elliott chuckles, low in his throat and barley there, Octavio knows if he still had humanoid knees they'd go weak.  </p><p>It’s odd, Octavio finding so much comfort and peace within another person. And Elliott is  someone who doesn't get sick of him, or doesn't find him aggravating or too over the top. Octavio isn't used to bonds, the closest person he had for the longest time was Ajay, and she even tired of him sometimes, which he understood, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. </p><p>Elliott feels familiar, he feels like someone Octavio has known his whole life, the way they sorta just clicked right away. Octavio never noticed how utterly incomplete he felt until Elliott showed up, and now that feeling is replaced with an unavoidable, inescapable feeling of endearment. </p><p>Elliott was his missing piece. </p><p>And sure, they aren’t perfect, there's always going to be things they’ll have to fix, and there will always be days where it’ll be tough - but Octavio is willing to mend whatever is bent if it meant he got to spend it with the man he <em>really</em> liked.</p><p>The guy he really, <em>really</em> liked. </p><p>The silence between them is comfortable, there’s no interruption in the moment, no need for words to fill the air surrounding them, for once in his life, Octavio is alright with just being. </p><p>His fingers are tapping a rhythm into his own thigh, and oddly, it’s the least jittery he’s been in awhile. </p><p>But, as usual, the silence doesn’t last long. </p><p>“Hey, Tav?” Elliott speaks, there’s something to his tone that Octavio can’t quite place, something like uncertainty. </p><p>“Hm?” </p><p>A long pause, and Octavio knows Elliott is gathering his words in his head, trying to reroute them to his mouth, place them in a sentence correctly. He doesn't push it, lets him take his time, they've got much of it to spare. </p><p>“...How did you know you were, ya'know.. t-trans?” His voice is shaky, almost as if he's going to cry. </p><p>Octavio turns his head to look at him again, but Elliott doesn’t look back, just keeps his eyes to the sky. His smile has since faded, the wrinkles near his eyes smoothed out, and he’s tapping his fingers against his belly nervously, almost mechanically. </p><p>“I, uh. I think I always knew,” Octavio starts just to break the quiet, keeps his voice leveled,  “I never really was a girl.” </p><p>Elliott turns his head, meets his eyes, so Octavio gives a soft smile and continues, “I think I was always different from the other kids. I felt like I wasn’t exactly who everyone said I was, ya’know?” </p><p>Elliott gives a tight nod, then his eyebrows knit together like he’s thinking, or he’s confused, or something in between maybe - Octavio wants to know what he’s thinking, wants to know every thought that’s storming around in that big head of his right now.</p><p>But he settles on continuing to talk, “I think I really knew when I was like, 15? I cut my hair and dyed it, and when I looked in the mirror afterwards I finally saw <em>Octavio, </em>not.. that other person.” His hands gesture vaguely as he speaks, "It wasn't a big moment. I sorta just.. started going by Octavio, and if they didn't like it, I didn't care." </p><p>Elliott makes a small noise, "But, did you?" </p><p>"Did I what?" </p><p>"..Care?" </p><p>Octavio pauses for a second, the silence feels like it drags out. He can hear the apprehension in Elliott's tone. It makes his heart pang with a soft pity. </p><p>"No." He answers, reaching his hand over to grab at Elliott's own, intertwines their fingers. "I didn't, and still I don't." Octavio squeezes his hand, keeps him tethered to this moment, "Neither should you."  </p><p>Elliott looks at their combined hands, and there's something in his eyes Octavio's not sure he's seen before. </p><p>It's vulnerable, fragile, Octavio fears if he stares too long it'll flicker away like a light-bulb worn with use. There's something in his eyes that indicate there's so much more he wants to say, there's so many other things he wants to touch on, that he desperately <em>needs </em>to say, but Octavio know's it won't happen unless it's forced, punched out of him.</p><p>Then the silence between them seems thick, like there's something hanging in the air between them, hefty, uncomfortable. </p><p>"Amor, what's going on?" </p><p>It's a push, but he hopes it's in the right direction, puts Elliott on a path of wanting to talk, wanting to say every little thing that's scrambling in his brain. </p><p>Elliott sits up, and their hands disconnect, leaving Octavio's fingers aching with the missing of Elliott's embedded between his.</p><p>Octavio follows, sits up as well and shifts his body to look directly at Elliott. It might be a bit much, he’ll admit, but it’s the only way he’s gonna get him to say anything.</p><p>And if it backfires here, if Elliott explodes and takes off without a single word said past the few he’d spoke, he’ll try again. He’ll push it until it’s at the top of Elliott’s throat, pull it out from behind his tongue if he must, anything to get this obvious weight off his back.  </p><p>He reaches out again, lays his hand on Elliott’s knee, feels the warmth that seeps through Elliott’s pants, relishes it for a second before giving him a concerned look. </p><p>“Talk to me, ángel..” Octavio whispers, tone calm, hopes it keeps Elliott above the waves of anxiety crashing over him. </p><p>There’s a sniffle, and Octavio watches with sympathy as a tear falls onto the dark material of Elliott’s pants. </p><p>"God, Tav, I.. I think I.. I think I might," Elliott stammers, and the words sound tense, like he's angry about it, “I think I’m t-tr-trans.. or <em>something</em> like that.” </p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>He doesn’t know what to say, he can only do, so Octavio’s hand moves up to cradle his cheek and turn his face so Elliott meets his eyes. They’re full of tears, both angry and distressed, and Octavio only gives a soft nod,</p><p>And in those short seconds where only their eyes speak, saying things that they simply cannot. Octavio sees a future in Elliott’s eyes. See’s early mornings and late nights, he sees someone who loves him for who he is, not who he tries to be on the field or for press; Elliott see's him as Octavio, not Octane. He sees vulnerability and trust so bright in his irises it’s almost overwhelming.</p><p>In short, he sees home in Elliott’s eyes, unavoidable, sickeningly sweet, and right in front of him, is his <em>home</em>.</p><p>“It’s okay, amor.” He says, quiet. Elliott gives him a look of someone whose maybe never heard that, or someone who <em>needed</em> to hear that, and it takes every ounce of Octavio’s being to build up the courage to mutter, “I still love you.” </p><p>To his surprise, Elliott’s eyes don’t go wide, his jaw doesn’t fall open. He doesn’t get up and leave, and he certainly doesn’t react with anger, he does nothing Octavio expected him to do; he instead matches Octavio’s hand, cradles his cheek and pulls him into a deafening kiss. </p><p>It’s a bit earth shattering, this moment. Elliott just came out to him, and Octavio might’ve fallen more in love if it were possible. There’s a thumb gliding over his cheekbone, caressing him as if he were something to be cherished, something akin to a worthy possession. </p><p>Their lips part after a few seconds to take a breath, but Octavio only moves closer to pepper light kisses over the entirety of Elliott’s face. He presses one to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek then the bone, then his temple and above his eyebrow, and finally the tip of his nose before pulling away completely. </p><p>“I love you,” Elliott sighs, he sounds like he’s relived, like something had just released its grip on him, “I love you, I love you,” he repeats, over and over until Octavio’s laughing, loud and warm. </p><p>They rest their foreheads together for a silent moment, breathe each other in, find peace in that silence one more time. </p><p>There’s so much to say, so much to talk about, and they’ve got nothing but time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>any mistakes are my own, please lmk if you spot any. :) </p><p>genderfluid mirage rights 2021 let them wear a dress</p></blockquote></div></div>
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